


Moonstone

by evilbean



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Severus Snape, Post-War, Severus Snape-centric, Snape has a cat, sad fic, sick!Severus Snape, tentative friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25528525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilbean/pseuds/evilbean
Summary: Sirius had not been sure exactly of what he was going to find in Snape's home after Harry had asked him to take the git to his Healer appointment at St. Mungo. What he found managed to shock him anyway.Post-War AU: Severus Snape and Sirius Black both survived the war. However, Severus paid a high price and Sirius is not really sure of anything after having been through too much grief.This is a motorbike road-trip full of angst and pain and grief; a strange journey where two men finally come to an understanding of sorts after a life of hatred. It's not a happy story – you have been warned.But there's also a cat. Yay.
Relationships: Sirius Black & Severus Snape
Comments: 28
Kudos: 158





	Moonstone

Sirius was still going through the scene, trying to understand how in Merlin’s name he did end up with the unpleasant task ahead. Apparently, his darling godson could be quite cunning, the little mongrel! It had sounded like the only way at the time… Now, while driving all the way up to Cokeworth, he was seriously – no pun intended – questioning his sanity.

Surely, if the greasy git needed a healer check-up, he could go to St. Mungo by himself? Of course Harry explained that he couldn’t apparate in his state and that his house wasn’t linked to the floo network for some reason…

Sirius had tried to mention the Knight Bus at that point, but Harry had been adamant that it wasn’t a good idea as Snape couldn’t really defend himself those days. Defend himself against what exactly, that was what Sirius would have liked to know.

Shrugging while slowing down his latest muggle motorbike a little, Sirius was trying to remember what exactly was wrong with Snape if he couldn’t apparate nor “defend himself”, as preposterous as the need to do so appeared to him.

Riding his motorbike had always been a way for Sirius to take a break from life and allow his brain to wander. The reason for this particular ride left him with a lot of strange wandering thoughts indeed, thoughts that he had spent a lot of time not looking at too closely until now.

After Harry had finally taken down Voldemort during that final battle at Hogwarts, Snape had been unconscious for some weeks as far as Sirius remembered. That damn snake nearly did him in in the end and it was very close for some time. Not that Sirius was particularly interested then – what with the loss of Moony and so many others – but he remembered Harry being quite concerned and throwing himself into exonerating the spy in those early days.

Snape being unconscious for so long allowed Harry to convince enough people and when the git finally woke up, he wasn’t immediately thrown in Azkaban – just.

Sirius remembered also that Harry kept going to St. Mungo, to visit bloody Snape of all people for months after that. Snape certainly took his sweet time before finally confronting the mess that was his life, waiting for him in the outside world.

Sure, Sirius didn’t like the git but even he could see that having been a spy would make any life difficult once the war was done with. It had been so weird for everyone to try to find some normalcy again after all that mess – Harry in particular, who had spent nearly his whole young life with only one nearly impossible goal ahead, had struggled for some time quite understandably. What had it been like for Snape to return to living an open life after years of living through lies and deception? Sirius’s own curiosity took him by surprise.

The road separated in two directions and Sirius quickly threw a “point me” spell before turning right.

The last Marauder remembered quite well how shocked he had been when Harry had explained to him the role Snape had played against Voldemort.

The bastard was ugly, unpleasant and a complete jerk but even Sirius could now admit that what he did for all those years – deceiving Voldemort and his followers no less – was quite impressive. Who would have guessed seeing the creepy kid he had been? The fact that Voldemort himself would have died without having discovered the farce if Harry hadn't felt like throwing it in his face and that Snape even lived to tell the tale was remarkable. Well, it was a manner of speaking of course, since the bastard now lived like a recluse and didn’t talk with anyone, and especially not to “tell the tale”.

Surely that bloody town couldn’t be that far now, could it? Speeding up a little, Sirius suddenly realized that they were the only ones left. It was like a punch in the gut, Snape and himself, for better and for worse: there was no one else from those days at school, no one else from the best period of Sirius’s life.

That was quite sobering wasn’t it?

And both had nearly died also. Sirius nearly going through that blasted veil at the Ministry – Remus’ spell throwing him the other way just in time! – and then that green spell barely missing him during the final battle. He knew now that without Harry’s sacrifice there would have been no way for that spell to miss him so narrowly…

His thoughts were interrupted again when Sirius saw a dingy sign stating “COKEWORTH” in faded letters just a little ahead of his motorbike. At last!

Remembering Harry’s directions, Sirius ran the motorbike slowly through the streets. At first, the houses on either side of the street were freshly painted and middle-class looking but the more he drove ahead the more battered the streets and houses looked.

When the grim-looking chimney of the abandoned mill behind the town became nearly close enough for him to read the faded letters on it, the houses became smaller and derelict. The streets looked more and more dirty and dodgy and Sirius was becoming very aware of the nasty looks his flamboyant motorbike was now getting from the few people hanging out at one filthy corner or the other. He sped up a little.

What was Snape playing at living in such a dump?

Did Harry really say that Snape had lived in his parent’s house for all those years and had now returned to it? Was that the sort of place Snape grew up in? Well, Snape had looked quite poor when they were at school now that Sirius thought about it. Even his lack of basic hygiene was quite telling he had to admit now that he was an adult and not a stupid youth…

Frankly, the greasy teenager from Sirius’ school memories would not look too out of place in this neighbourhood. It was a new perspective.

Finally, Sirius reached his destination in the way of a rusty sign spelling the name of one last dirty and narrow street: “Spinner’s End”. Merlin and Morgana: even the river running nearby looked dirty and smelled like trash. This place was fucking depressing.

Driving very slowly now, Sirius headed toward the end of the decrepit street, looking at the dirty windows and deserted bare gardens. There was no one in this part of town, it looked abandoned.

Once the motorbike was parked in front of the last house tiny garden door, Sirius realized that he was about to see his school nemesis again after a lot of time and certainly a lot of events. He didn’t know how he felt about that.

He remembered his own anger at learning the role Snape had played in the death of James and Lily that awful night… It seemed like it was a really long time ago now. Strangely, his own guilt had always been in the way of that particular accusation. It helped also that he didn't expect anything less of Snape at the time – what with him being a fucking Death Eater and all. It was fitting somehow that Snape had been the one fucking up with the prophecy that had ended up biting up both of their arses in the end.

James and Lily. Too young. It was such a long time ago now and the painful feeling in Sirius' chest was more about the lack of vivid pain when he thought about James than the painful gaping wound of all these years ago. The pain of hurting less when it shouldn't have been possible. It felt wrong somehow.

Part of him wanted to make the bastard pay for daring to be alive when James and Remus were not; but another bigger part didn’t want to let Harry down. He had promised to behave and – for whatever weird reason – Harry did care about the man; like Lily before she understood that the git was no good — no, that wasn’t fair: Harry was not naive, he was a gentle soul and capable of a great amount of forgiveness but he had endured too much hassle for his feelings about Snape to be dismissed too quickly. Sirius knew he wanted to respect that.

Sirius was surprised to realize that _he himself_ didn't want Snape dead. Who else was there to share all those painful things of the past than fucking Snape? No one. What a sad pair of damaged fools they were.

Well, hadn’t he done a lot of growing up those last few years? It was a funny thought. Again, it was strange to miss the boy he had been still, but less than before. No wonder he was greying around the temples with such unexpected wisdom, fucking hell.

A very unpleasant noise startled him out of his musings:

“Are you going to knock or do you plan to have a picnic in front of my front door, Black?”

The gravelly voice made Sirius jump; but of course Snape wasn’t done yet:

“Should I provide the tea or are you all set?”

Already annoyed, Sirius couldn’t help answering:

“Shut up Snape, nobody wants to hear your croak of a voice.”

The other man just sneered down at him – something of an achievement considering Sirius was the taller of the two.

Snape was… well, “uglier than ever” uncharitably crossed Sirius’s mind. He looked sick even for his sallow-skinned standards and there were deep bruise-coloured circles around his bottomless eyes. Somewhat calmer after his assessment, Sirius asked:

“So, are you ready?”

Snape seemed taken aback by the uncharacteristic politeness. The ex-spy just looked at his old nemesis for a moment, studying him, before answering as calmly:

“Not yet. Do enter then, you can even have some tea if you fancy it.”

Sirius entered silently in what seemed to be a washed-down living-room and then a pared-down muggle kitchen. He tried to remember if this was the politer they had ever been to each other and came to the conclusion that it most certainly was.

Two wars and an unfathomable amount of loss and grief could apparently do strange things to people in their late forties. Sirius wasn’t sure this counted as a miracle – what with the too high price.

Snape was already retreating toward the living-room after having mutely served a cuppa for his “guest”. Sirius sat down at the wobbly kitchen table, observing his host move. The man seemed to have some trouble keeping his equilibrium and his gait appeared unstable, similar to someone who would have drank a little too much. He was using the walls for support and his entire body was tense.

Harry’s explanation about Apparition sounded a lot less like an elaborate trap and more like a genuine explanation right now.

Sirius' attention was distracted from Snape when a dark tabby cat jumped unexpectedly on his lap, already purring. Sirius giggled softly at the soft animal cheek. At least one resident in that awful house was welcoming. Petting the cat with gusto, its fur was very soft and thick and its eyes big and of the greenest green, Sirius drank his tea in silence. The cup was chipped but the tea was surprisingly good. It tasted of bergamot and general citrusiness.

Seeing Snape reappear in the kitchen, he couldn't help but ask:

"What's its name?", pointing at the cat still purring on his lap and currently busy trying to head butt the hand holding the cup with a little too much enthusiasm.

"She's Moonstone, she's my cat."

"I figured as much Snape; although I have to say that this is a very friendly cat… considering."

"And what that's even supposed to mean?"

Snape was staring menacingly at him, he looked genuinely offended by the comment and Sirius couldn't help but laugh openly at the silliness of it all. Had he just offended Snape by saying that his cat was too friendly for him?

"I'm not going to hurt your cat Snape, relax will you."

Snape stayed still for a little while, before replying softly – as softly as his broken voice allowed anyway – while staring at the oblivious animal:

"You better not. She's a good cat."

He sounded deadly serious too. Sirius pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming the whole think up.

**< ><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>**

“So, how do you want to do it, Black?”

Severus was eying the giant motorbike in front of him with something akin to worried anticipation. Not that he would have admitted being a little scared at the prospect of riding the monster for three good hours. He wouldn’t admit any weaknesses in front of Sirius Black.

The prospect of mounting the giant beast and letting Black control the thing was a little daunting though. What had the man been thinking to come fetch him on this thing? Knowing the fucker, it was surely a deliberate move to humiliate him further. Old habits and all that.

“I suggest you just hop on it Snape, it isn’t quantic alchemy you know”

Snape should have been angry at the prospect of humiliating himself in front of someone else, and not anyone either, this particular man. He knew he should have been; a part of him even wished for the anger to come, for the bitterness to win and kill any trace of mockery or pity in the immediate perimeter. But as for the last 369 times a similar situation had occurred, he was just too tired to care now. He supposed the fire that had kept him going in the dark for so long, for years – since _her_ death really – died when he woke up in St. Mungo as a useless cripple, not even smart enough to die at the right moment.

He just said it then, in his injured voice, without showing any sort of emotion:

“I will need help then Black”

If the other was surprised, he managed to hide it well – or maybe Severus was just too tired and hurting to care anymore.

It was hard work but they finally managed it. The other man seemed to be re-thinking the value of his choice of transportation if the slightly unsettled look on his face was anything to go by. Severus rather hoped he would fall off it somewhere along the way. He was rather indifferent at the prospect of his life ending sooner rather than later and getting Black in trouble in the process seemed like as good as anything else as a way to go.

"Ready?", asked Black after having mounted the bike himself.

"Yes."

"Grab onto me then Snape, no need to be shy, I'm not interested anyway."

Severus did just that. Not taking the bait wasn't even that hard anymore.

The metal beast suddenly rumbled, shaking and coughing like mad, before Black started off, more gently than Severus had anticipated. Severus couldn't help tensing up a little more at the movement, greeting his teeth in pain to prevent himself from moaning out-loud. This was a very bad idea. How was he supposed to endure this for three hours now?

He just had time to see the tip of Black's wand poking from his sleeve before he felt his bottom grip the seat unnaturally. A sticking charm… he was no better than a child on his first broom journey it seemed. He didn't protest; denying that it was the first wise move from Black would get him nowhere.

Life seemed to have a very dark sense of humor… Severus, who had always feared humiliation above everything else, was now condemned to living it every minute of his life. And today it was in front of Black of course – or rather behind him but it was just rhetoric at this point. He sighed.

The motorbike sputtered its way on the dark road for what seemed like a very long time to Severus. Every bump of the road, every stuttering from the engine, every slight movement from Black on his seat, were agony at this point. He could feel his grip on the other man sliding down from how tense he was and kept readjusting it again and again.

The vehicle stopped more abruptly than before, Black maybe casting a direction spell, and Severus heard a moan escaping his mouth without his consent. There was no way the other man didn't hear it, the noise emitted by the contraption they were riding having drastically reduced at their sudden slow pace. Severus couldn't summon enough will to care.

They were now immobile on the road. Waiting for the motorbike to re-start and bracing himself mentally, Severus began to feel something akin to dread when the moment of stillness didn't end after a while. Deciding to balance his earlier moment of weakness, he asked to his driver in a detached voice:

"Are we lost then?"

Black didn't answer immediately, Severus could almost see the cogs and springs working madly in his thick brain. Eventually he offered:

"Not really. I was thinking that we should take a break for lunch. I don't know about you but I'm starving."

Severus snorted out loud. Pity it was going to be then? Pity, humiliation – same difference. He overdosed on those a long time ago; he was numb to them now, he reminded himself.

"If you wish. I have no objection," Severus replied, careful to keep the pain out of his voice as much as possible.

To be honest, a break from the infernal position on the bike was very welcome. He needed to take what he could, pride had no place in his life anymore. Maybe nobody would recognize him this time?

Black took them to the heart of the town they were currently crossing. He seemed to know very well where they were because he chose to turn unexpectedly below a weird bridge that revealed itself to be a gateway toward the Wizarding part of the town. The motorbike was parked to the left of a lively pub and Black jumped out of his seat with unexpected grace.

Severus had luckily let go of him as soon as they were immobile but jumped a little at the sudden movement anyway. Well, jump was definitely more metaphorical in this case – the sticking charm was still present of course. Not knowing what to do, Severus just stayed where he was, looking like a moron perched alone on the back-seat of a giant muggle motorbike.

The sticking spell was cancelled without a word being uttered by the other man and Severus couldn't help but being grateful for the discretion. Again, Black surprised him by offering his help mutedly without having been asked for it this time.

In the end, it was more efficient than it had been to climb on it earlier but still as graceless. Black just grabbed him and basically carried him over the bike, before carefully deposing him on the ground. Severus had to take a few breaths, eyes closed, to manage the pain of the change of position. There wasn't any way to conceal that he was hurting very bad now, his body was useless and as vindictive as ever towards its owner's will to move…

Surprisingly, no mocking words were heard, no derogatory noise of any sort. Black just stood there, silent, and waited for Severus to regain his composure.

How times had changed… It seemed like two wars and too many losses could infuse some maturity even in the thickest of heads. His own included… why was he feeling some kinship in relation to Black now? He realized in a weird surge of clarity that he felt closer to the man than to most human beings right now… they shared too many lost names.

Strange how pain could weave threads to connect the most unlikely of people. Who else remained anyway from their shared old days? No one. They were so alone… Only himself, and a strangely matured version of the old Sirius Black. Life was such a bitch… Severus wondered if Black was aware of that palpable tension between them too, that deep connection made of pain and ghosts and old faded hatred not quite enough anymore to damage it.

**< ><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Sirius could feel Snape fingers sliding ever so slightly before being readjusted again. His sides ached from the perpetual sliding grip of his passenger. A slightly hysterical laugh was bubbling in his throat: losing Snape on the road was not a fucking option.

Even with the sticking charm, he was getting more worried by the minute about the likeness of that scenario. Trying to think hard, he slowed down a little abruptly and felt Snape tense up even more. Did the man think he was trying to throw him overboard? Sirius knew that, a long time ago, he would had been very pleased about Snape’s terror at riding his bike while he drove it… Apparently he wasn't this man anymore because – despite having driven with a caution he didn't even knew he possessed after having seen the state of the other man – he felt rather awful about the whole motorbike idea now that he had to deal with the frightened shadow of the man he once knew.

They needed to stop and take a break before anything drastic happened. Debating within himself how to bring it up, Sirius stopped on the side of the road. The silence was becoming rather heavy when the broken voice shattered it:

"Are we lost then?"

How should he answer that… words kept eluding him it seemed. This broken version of Snape was making him uneasy; old rules not applying anymore out of basic human decency. Well, he never was one to go around in circles was he?

"Not really. I was thinking that we should take a break for lunch. I don't know about you but I'm starving."

Snape snorted at that but didn't comment.

"If you wish. I have no objection," he finally replied, as flatly as ever.

Not wanting to lose even more time, Sirius took them to the nearest pub in the magical part of the town. He used to come there with Remus… in another life.

Once Snape was safely out of his seat and safely on the ground, Sirius took the time to observe him once more. He really did look sick. He was even paler than before and cold sweat was forming small drops all along his hairline. He looked like he was in a lot of pain and that thought sobered Sirius a little more. What had Harry been thinking? He was so not the right person for this.

"Come then, they used to have this perfect pork pie with mushed peas and chips on the side, I want to see if it's as good as I remember."

Snape took a wobbly step forward and Sirius lent him his arm for support without thinking. It was only when he felt the heavy weight of the other man leaning on him that he registered what he had just done.

Still unsettled by all of this, Sirius took them inside and toward a table against the window. He mechanically helped Snape to sit down as comfortably as possible and sat opposite him, grabbing a menu for something to do.

_The pork pie was still on it!_

He didn't have time to rejoice completely at the first good news of the day before the young waitress was behind him:

"Hi gentlemen, what can I do for you?"

"I will have the pork pie with your best pint to help it slide!", Sirius told her enthusiastically before looking at his companion, raising an interrogative eyebrow.

"I will have the same please, but switch the drink for a butterbeer bottle please, thank you."

The waitress looked uncomfortable at the sound of the gravelly voice but didn't comment.Sirius thoughts were disturbed by some movement from Snape’s side.

"What are you doing?", Sirius asked, annoyed at the other destroying their collective effort to deposit him on his chair safely by apparently trying to get up.

"I need the bathroom Black, I'm not trying to escape your care. I'm sure that the perspective of the Golden Boy Harry Potter himself telling you off is very scary but I assure you that you're safe at the moment."

Still a git then.

"Do you —", started Sirius before being rudely interrupted:

"I will manage."

Sirius was sure that the other man made it to the bathroom out of sheer spite. He was wobbling dangerously and sweating profusely now. Sirius didn't try again to help. If the git wanted to hurt himself and faint in the middle of the pub that was definitely his problem, he wasn't going to force him.

Now alone at their table, Sirius took a minute to observe the other patrons. It was midday and the pub was reasonably busy. He was however startled to see that a non negligible number of people were throwing him dirty looks. What was that about?

Before he could form a reasonable hypothesis however, his reluctant companion was back. Snape let himself fall on his chair. He looked exhausted and a little green. Had he been sick in the bathroom?

That thought wasn't enough to quench Sirius' appetite however when their order arrived. The smell was very tempting and for a time nothing else than his plate could occupy his mind. It was as good as he remembered!

Having wolfed a good three-quarter of his food, he looked sneakily at Snape: his appetite wasn't shared apparently. The other was looking vaguely at his food, not having touched it at all, seeming lost inside his own mind.

"You should try it you know, it's quite good."

Snape jumped as if he had been miles away, before his face crumpled in pain, the movement apparently too much for his weakened state. Tired of beating around the bush, Sirius asked him:

"Can't you take something for the pain? It looks like you need it."

Snape seemed to weight him with one of his looks, before he answered softly:

"In an hour, those potions need to be properly spaced out to avoid overdosing on them."

Well, it made sense. It looked like whatever Snape was taking wasn't enough though.

"Can't you take anything else in the meantime?"

"Not really"

"Well, it sucks."

Snape only raised one eyebrow at him, as if to tell 'you think?'.

Sirius became aware suddenly that they were having a polite, mundane conversation. Had this ever happen before in their life? He looked at his companion again, searching from something else to say and being beaten to it:

"The hellish ride on your beast of a contraption didn't help."

"Well, you can't have style and comfort at the same time Snape, you never quite understood that, did you?"

"I was never the cool kid Black, you and your little friends made sure of it".

It could have been like the old days… but there was absolutely no bite in either of their words. It was a little surreal.

Snape suddenly closed his eyes, looking like he was again riding a wave of pain. He looked a little green around the edges and Sirius wondered if he was going to be sick here and there. As if to confirm his suspicion, the other man struggled to his feet once again. Before Sirius could offer his help once more, Snape excused himself weakly:

"Sorry Black, I will be back shortly."

He could just look while Snape made his way painfully toward the little door at the back of the room. Still frowning a little at the situation, Sirius was interrupted by a voice from behind him:

"You're Sirius Black aren't you?"

_Not again_.

He should be used to it by now… being an ex-mass murderer, the godfather of the Boy-Who-Lived, a war hero according to the fucking journalists, he was often stopped in the street and recognized. Mostly people were lovely and kind and it was just embarrassing, but from time to time he was confronted with some weirdo with no concept of privacy and it was just intrusive and awkward.

"Yes, I am. Do you need something?" Sirius replied, calmly. He was getting better at this.

"I just wanted to thank you, for the war you know?"

The man was around Sirius's age, average looking and non-threatening in appearance. Sirius was too experienced now not to stay on his guard anyway. He summoned his "war hero" voice and answered neutrally:

"Don't thank me man; but I appreciate the sentiment, thank you."

Instead of going away, the man got even nearer, setting Sirius on edge.

"You shouldn't keep company like that sir, we should have got rid of them all you know, vermin like that don't deserve to live free like that, tis' not right. That man don't deserve to eat with you sir, if you don't mind me saying…"

"Actually, I do mind. Me and _my friend_ are having our lunch in peace, we didn't ask for your opinion on the matter."

Sirius’ voice was cold as ice, even to his own ears.Who was that man anyway? Why did people feel like they had a say in other people lives like that? Incredible.

Wait. Did he just refer to Snape as his friend? Sirius grimaced inwardly at that thought.

Seeing that the man had not budged, he got up threateningly, consciously trying to intimidate the moron in front of him, and was satisfied to see the fucker retreating at once. _Coward._

He didn't lower his stare until the man was sat again at his table, apparently having a beer with three other mates. They had been waiting for their friend with a sense of anticipation. Sirius saw them getting their heads together, no doubt listening to the tale of what just happened. He couldn't hear anything from where he was but the change in the atmosphere was quite obvious: they too didn't approve of his company apparently.

They didn't even know Snape. _He_ could hate Snape, he knew _why_ he hated Snape. Them? He didn't remember any of them fighting for what was right? Who were they to judge a man for his bad choices when he gave a big chunk of his adult life to bring down the monster while they sat and watched? Hell, his _entire_ adult life judging by the state of him now. Snape was a lot of things, but he wasn't a coward like those people, that was for sure.

Sirius was well aware of the irony of him defending Snape's reputation. However, it was as simple as them, the people having fought and lost a lot, against those who didn't do anything and felt now like they were competent to judge things they didn't understand. He wouldn't simplify things in saying that Snape and he were brave, but the others were definitely cowards.

Sirius stayed in front of the rest of his forgotten pork pie for a long time, fuming silently while looking absently through the misty window. It took him some time to realize that Snape had yet to reappear despite having left their table some time ago now. Looking around for the other man, Sirius saw that the table were his "admirer" had been was now empty. A feeling of dread took roots in him at once.

_Snape_.

**< ><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Severus had just vomited again. _Great_. His stomach had always been weak in the haze of pain despite the endurance to it that its owner had always shown. Slightly dizzy, he sat on the ground in front of the toilet bowl. Pathetic really but who cared? Certainly not Severus, not anymore.

' _Keep telling yourself that_ ', an insidious voice echoed in his head. He didn't answer, he never did nowadays.

Even his Occlumency was failing him since that damn snake had had a bit of him. He used to be able to forget about the things he put under the metaphorical rug of his mind. There was no oblivion for him now; everything was always around, stinging him, and it was fucking awful.

He stayed like this, his head leaning against the unsanitary porcelain for a while, eyes closed and breathing a little halted, focused only on keeping the nausea at bay. This trip to St. Mungo was going to kill him, the irony not being lost on him.

Without any warning, his hair was pulled violently away – his head getting no other choice but to follow closely – before the hand grasping it bashed his skull against the toilet. Startled and disorientated by the violent assault, Severus tried to protect himself by getting both of his arms in front of his face while rolling into a tight ball on the filthy floor. He was kicked half-heartedly before he could have the dubious honor of being addressed by his aggressors:

"Please to meet you, Snape, right? We don't welcome Death Eaters in this pub you filthy murderer!"

He knew that kind, he had to deal with them every time he was out in the Wizarding world. There had been that man who literally threw rocks at him while screaming the late Headmaster's name, or the three young men who had beaten him into a pulp on a corner of Knockturn Alley when he had been out shopping for the ingredients necessary for his pain potions, or that memorable time when the crowd had tried to hang him in the street, before an irate Auror Potter had cut out the rope around his neck – his scars bleeding heavily against it – and yelled at the fools before taking him to the hospital, all along trying to convince him to press charges. Those were the most memorable occurrences anyway.

Silently assessing his chances, Severus tried to determine if he had a concussion or if the nausea and dizziness were just the same as earlier. It was hard to tell with such a fucked up baseline to be honest.Seeing nothing else to do, he decided to try to appease them – it rarely worked but rarely was better than never:

"I indeed am Severus Snape, can I do something for you gentlemen?"

He knew that baiting them wasn't really smart, but he just couldn't help himself in front of those morons. He had never suffered fools easily, today was not the day it was going to change.

He won another kick in the rib for his impudence; it had been worth it.

"What about you get out of here you louse!"

Well, that could definitely be arranged.

"Alright, I'm leaving then, I'm not really enjoying the view anyway."

Another kick, to his head this time.

He didn't get the chance to try to get up, in an instant, he was put on his feet by several pair of brutal hands and thrown through a door at the back of the bathroom that lead directly on the pavement outside of the pub.

Landing awkwardly, he didn't bother to try to arrange his limbs and just stayed as he had landed, his robes slowly absorbing the dirty water from the puddle in which he was sprawled. His head was throbbing painfully and he could feel that his lip was split and his left eye was beginning to close.

Suddenly very tired, he closed both his eyes and just lay there, keeping the pain – both physical and emotional – at bay with all the emptiness he could summon. He felt sleep trying to take him slowly and he let it, not caring if it was advisable or not in his state.

He had confirmation that he had indeed been asleep when a frenetic shaking woke him up.

"Snape! For Merlin's sake, wake up man!"

_Black_.

Trying to open his eyes, the left one resisting madly, he could see the form of the man looking at him with a very worried expression on his face.

"M'alright Black… just lemme a minute please."

The slurring didn't seem to appease the other man but he was soon helped to his feet – in a more gentler way than before – and deposited in a somewhat sited position against the greyish wall.

"I'm going to kill them… I'm going to kill them– the cowards!"

Black was definitely riling himself up; he looked angry and agitated. It was weird to think that it was on Severus' behalf.

"Why do you care Black? Are you jealous that they had a go first?"

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!"

Black looked a little unhinged and Severus heard himself laugh. It was an empty laugh too, devoid of joy. It seemed to shock Black enough to snap him out of his funk. Black looked at him as if he was seeing him for the first time.

"What's fucking wrong with you Snape?"

Not knowing where to begin, Severus just stared at him. It was in that exact position, Black's blue eyes staring back directly into Severus's tarnished soul, that they were rudely interrupted.

"Found your filthy friend?"

Severus didn't really know how it happened but the next moment Black had his wand out and the four men were tied up and silenced, aligned against the wall.

"I'm sure my god son will be delighted to meet you all, you fucking cowardly fucks!"

"Did you kiss your mother with that mouth Black?", Severus asked, quite amused at the other man’s anger. It was entertaining and fucking ironic to say the least.

"Fuck my mother. And fuck you too, Snape."

"I assure you Black, the feeling is quite mutual."

They smiled at each other then. The world was definitely fucking ending.

After that, Black, faithful to his word to Severus surprise, contacted the Auror Office using the Pub's floo. Fortunately, the two Aurors who went to collect their prizes were too young to have been Severus's students and none of them was Harry bloody Potter. It was over and done with in a very short amount of time, for which Severus was very grateful.

Severus stayed where he was while Black talked to them. He had been away for a little while now and Severus was using the time to calm himself down. He was starting to fall asleep once more when Black patted his shoulder again.

"Hmmm?"

"Don't fall asleep please", said Black, "we need to get you to St. Mungo sooner rather than later."

While the statement held some truth, Severus was dreading the logistical aspect of it.

"I'm not sure —"

"— don't worry, I got us a car," interrupted Black.

That did wake Severus up.

"What?"

"I borrowed a car. It will be easier to transport you that way and in about an hour we will be there. Do you think you can last that long?"

And the stupid man was indeed showing him some keys and smiling like they were friends. Severus didn't have the heart to protest at any of it and just nodded, more than a little relieved about not having to ride all the way to St. Mungo on Sirius Black's hellish motorbike.

The rest of the journey was quite uneventful. Black drove all the way while Severus tried – and failed – not to fall asleep on the back seat. The ride was sometimes bumpy and definitely uncomfortable for his weak body, but he was used to pain and it wasn't unbearable. Of course, the fact that Severus had taken his next Potions doses just before entering the car had been a big help.

Severus Snape was allowing his exhausted mind to admit that Sirius Black could be a decent human being at times. Weirder things had happened after all.

**< ><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Sirius had just let Snape go through a door with his designated Healer, finally feeling like his mission had been completed. Harry had offered to take Snape back home since he was going to have to stay at the hospital for something like a week it seemed. He felt weirdly empty, like after a big emotional shock.

In the end, he and Snape hadn't talked about the past, not really. They didn't share their grief, their hurt, their traumas from that bitch of a war that took their youth and a bit of them with it. They didn't even talk about what was fucking wrong with Snape's health – or Sirius' head for that matter.

And yet… Sirius felt like he had been able to be himself for the first time in years. They didn't talk but they fucking understood.

Sirius felt like that place inside himself, that place where his old hate for the creepy Slytherin kid who was the embodiment of all that was wrong in the world, of all of Walburga's hateful rants on blood purity, of all of Orion's cold disgust at his eldest son, that place was suddenly empty, void of meaning, a thing of the past.

**< ><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>**

It was seven months later that Sirius heard the news on the wireless; just before Harry actually floo-called him to tell him in person. They were living in a fast news world after all.

Despite the revelations of their last encounter, Sirius wasn't prepared for the wave of grief that seized him immediately. The world immediately lost some of its remaining colours and Sirius felt a deep loneliness settle into his chest, not to ever be dislodged from there until his own death. 

**< ><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>**

The funeral was a quiet affair, the day and place having been kept a secret to avoid any disturbances from people like those petty men Sirius had witnessed taking out their own cowardice on Snape during their weird road-trip together.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, the rest of the Weasley and the entire Order – what remained of it anyway – the bulk of the old Hogwarts staff too, some ministry officials and Sirius. No family. No friends; not really.

Nobody ever understood why Sirius, after having deeply hated the man for decades, insisted on doing a speech during the ceremony.

They all blushed, uncomfortable on their seats, awkwardness seeping through their veins and their minds and their bones, while Sirius Black called the late Severus Snape a bastard, a fucking unpleasant git who needed to wash his hair and had never been kind to someone in his entire life. And Sirius went on and on, listing all the bad choices, all the repellent qualities, all the sins, no clemency, just brutal vicious hard-to-look-at-honesty.

And in the end, they all stopped breathing, paralyzed, when he ended his rant, in tears, and called the dead man the bravest of them all, the one who won the war for them and who was rewarded with the unanimous loathing of their kind for it. The fucking bravest bastard he had known in his entire eventful life.

And Sirius marched toward the casket, and he said, loudly enough for all to hear:

"Thanks, and I'm very sorry. I should have said it to you sooner. I'm sure you knew anyway, you sly bastard… Don’t worry about Moonstone Severus, I took her; she's a good cat."

And he walked away from the room, not staying for the actual burial. He had a cat to take care of after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you don't hate me? Please tell me even if you do! You know you will make me very happy if you leave me a little comment to let me know what are your thoughts about this one. 
> 
> I started writing this story last winter while my job was crazy and I basically lived in trains and planes. I stumbled upon my poor 1300 words unfinished draft the other day and experienced a weird surge of creativity: it was done with in less than 2 days.
> 
> I wrote Moonstone thinking about my real life cat who's a sweetie and definitely a good cat. ;)  
> [Here she is](https://thatawfulsnapeboy.tumblr.com/post/629532909945110528/i-feel-like-we-need-some-positivity-so-heres-my)
> 
> All the thanks to my friend Alex who helped me go from a rough first draft to what you read. All mistakes remain mine as this has not been properly betaed... I hope it was readable?
> 
> Thank you all for reading!
> 
> **EDIT: a two-parts AU fix-it of this story can now be found[HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26770822/chapters/65943505) if you're interested. **


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